


A Gentle Touch

by ultimatehope



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: First Time, Grinding, Kissing, M/M, Short & Sweet, Trans Crowley (Good Omens), Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:41:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22758712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultimatehope/pseuds/ultimatehope
Summary: A late night moment shared in Aziraphale's apartment after six thousand years of pining for one another!
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 61





	A Gentle Touch

Midnight.

The street lamps illuminated the corner of the street and the bookstore that wouldn’t be open until late the next morning. Divine beings sat in a car nearby, watching the building as if it would move when their eyes drifted off of it. Silence not only consumed the city streets but the interior of the car, as well. 

In the driver’s seat sat a redheaded demon whose fingers twirled a golden ring. His knee twitched, and his foot tapped against the floor mat. To his left was the angel who long belonged inside the bookstore, sleeping for the next day. Not that either of them needed to sleep, but he had watched Aziraphale find peace in closing his eyes and resting like the humans. Could a fallen angel ever feel peace like that again?

Crowley cocked his head to the side, breaking eye contact with the old bricks to look at Aziraphale. He flipped the ring before sliding it back onto his finger, “It’s that time, right? Time for us to part ways until our next I-O-U? Go ahead then, angel, I won’t miss you too much.” His eyes drifted to the blonde’s lap where his fingers fidgeted and entwined with one another, “May I?”

Aziraphale inhaled, “Oh?” but he didn’t have a chance to answer either of Crowley’s questions before the spindly fingers of the demon forced his hands apart. He was speechless when his hand was brought up to the redhead’s lips and a kiss was pressed to the back of it. The feeling caused heat to rush to Aziraphale’s cheeks, a rosy tone sneaking across his face. 

“Get on then, what are you waiting for?” His words sounded more like a challenge than anything. As if he was daring or trying to tempt the angel to leave the vehicle. The corner of his mouth perked up in a smirk, “Snake got your tongue?” His words were followed by an inhuman hiss that came from the back of his throat.

Was that the angel’s heart that was threatening to beat right out of this human form? 

“Oh …” repeated Aziraphale, as if adding a different connotation to the word was equal to answering Crowley’s questions. He leaned back until he felt the headrest behind him but the rest of his body remained on the edge of the seat, fingers curling around the bony hand that held onto his, “Well, Crowley, maybe we do not-- well, maybe we don’t have to part ways this time, have you--” He swallowed back and leaned forward suddenly with a smile crossing his face. An eyebrow raised with a challenge posed to the demon, “Have you thought of that?”

The celestial pair stared into each other’s eyes for this single moment. Both wore a raised eyebrow, and Crowley’s smirk met Aziraphale’s puckered lips. The tension of six thousand years hung in the air between them before a laugh finally broke the moment off. It was the demon’s dry laughter.

“Don’t you have something good to be doing? That a wicked, little demon like myself would get in the way of?” His eyes were anywhere but on those big, blue orbs that stared at him.

“It’s not like you’re that ba--” Aziraphale started giggling at how fast Crowley’s attention returned to him with sharpened fangs glaring where they hadn’t been before. He swiftly pulled his hand away to twiddle his fingers, looking away with a deeper blush, “I’m kidding, kidding, love, you’re very wicked! The most evil!” 

Despite “love” being a common term of endearment, the way it rolled off the angel’s tongue caused the demon to lose his focus, eyes becoming human-like once more, “That’s what I thought, angel, don’t tempt fate like this.” He hissed again from the back of his throat yet a smile still remained on his face.

“Well, are you coming or what?” Aziraphale placed a hand on the car door with another coming to rest atop Crowley’s knee, fingers brushing against the fabric there before he quickly retracted it, “I invite you in, if you so desire.” His next moves happened too quickly to be void of angelic intervention. He was out the car and unlocking the door of the bookstore across the street. He didn’t look back until he was inside, eyes beckoning the demon to follow with his white wings appearing briefly in a flash behind him.

Crowley still sat in the car. He watched through narrowed eyes, sunglasses falling down his nose. His ring was off his finger again, being twirled, and his heart was pounding. What a tedious organ it was. He didn’t waste any more time, barreling out of the car and slamming the door before strutting across the street. Without looking both ways.

Aziraphale clicked his tongue from inside the building, spinning on his heels before darting up the stairs. A few giggles came out as the stairs creaked beneath him. As he hit the landing at the top of the stairs, he was ambushed by Crowley’s lanky frame from the side and pushed into the nearest wall. The breath was knocked right out of him but as soon as he caught up to what was happening, another giggle erupted from him.

“What are you -- the doughboy now? I touch you and you giggle?” He kept him pressed into a wall and started jabbing at his midsection. To his surprise, the angel did continue giggling, and only a snort could come from the demon. It was the little things, the miniscule actions, the softness and light emitted around the angel.... 

Crowley leaned down and nuzzled his nose against the one that belonged to his sworn enemy. His hands gripped either of Aziraphale’s sides, heart threatening to leap when he heard the soft snicker that came with squeezing his fat rolls, “Oh, you’re heaven-bent on still going? What do you find so funny, angel?”

“My dear, my dear!” Aziraphale sucked in a deep breath, “I do apologize, you’ve got me all-- flustered!” He lowered his head with it cocked off to the side, avoiding looking right at the snake-like man’s face. Yet Crowley kept … moving his face closer with his own head tilted in the opposing direction.

“You’re sweating? I didn’t know angels could get so heated in the face,” The redhead’s lips puckered and he reached up to push blonde curls back and away from Aziraphale’s forehead. His expression almost seemed thoughtful for a moment, “Why don’t we get comfortable?”

Aziraphale exhaled, “In the library?” He raised an eyebrow and straightened up, attempting to take a step forward but the demon’s body was unyielding so they ended up pressed close together.

“I was thinking in that room of yours, the one with the bed, the one you sleep in?” 

“Oh… oh, of course!” 

Despite being in agreement, the two remained pressed against each other for a couple minutes. Their eyes met and the demon’s lips were pressed together in a thin line while the angel’s puckered and spread apart, making a face that suggested he was going to go “Oh!” again.

“Well, let’s get on then--” Aziraphale moved his hands to press against Crowley’s midsection and give the tiniest bit of a push. It got the demon out of the way and off they went to the apartment that sat on the top floor of the building. The brief walk was a silent one with only soft breaths hanging in the air between them. They entered the angel’s bedroom and Crowley’s nose scrunched up, “Gotten a bit tighter in ‘ere since last time, eh?”

Sure, one could believe an angel would be more organized than a demon but if you were to compare the redhead’s flat to the blonde’s? This angel was there to prove everybody wrong. His bedroom wasn’t sleek nor did it look unlived in. It looked like the angel lived in the bedroom a lot. It had just about as many books as downstairs with a desk covered in papers, notes, and several mugs that each had varying dried liquids in them. 

“You and your mugs, angel--” commented Crowley as his eyes prowled around the living quarters, spotting more mugs on his nightstand as well as his dresser. Had he ever thought to just wash the same one and re-use it? And what was with the bowties hanging off every fixture as well as the various piles of pajamas? He opened his mouth to sass him more, to suggest he clean this wretched place, but any words were drowned out by his laughter. 

Aziraphale’s face scrunched up with cheeks still glowing with that red tone, “As if your flat is any better, my dear, what is the saying? Don’t throw stones from your glass house.” He moved around, beginning to pick up stray books and clothing, “I definitely do not want to hear from a demon about the keepings of my home so you may silence yourself now.” His movements were quicker until he came full circle and dropped everything right onto his desk. It was now a mountain of clothes and books piled atop moldy mugs and papers.

What the angel failed to realize is the demon didn’t really care what his bedroom looked like. It mattered about the same amount to him as what color underwear he was wearing. If he were wearing any at all. Crowley shrugged his jacket from his shoulders and folded it, placing it down in a non-opposing spot near the bed. His shoes were the next to be carefully added to the pile as he added, “You know, angel, you could just miracle this all into its place instead…”

“I suppose I could,” is where Aziraphale left this conversation as he watched the demon ‘get comfortable’. He shrugged his own coat off and followed it with unbuttoning his lapel. After his shoes were off, this left him in his baby blue button-up and his slacks. Comfortable.

There was a nagging voice in the back of his head that wanted to clean now. He enjoyed a good tidying up session; however, he had company. Company that was inviting himself to sit on his bed. The blonde cleared the distance between them and sat beside him with a bit of a smile creeping on his face, “Would you like a set of pajamas? Do you think you’ll take a good nap with me?” 

“Pajamas--” hissed Crowley, narrowing his eyes behind his sunglasses, “No, I don’t need pajamas, angel, I--” He stopped and glanced to the side, throwing his elbows on his knees and hunching over.

Aziraphale hummed, “Well, my dear, if you do change your mind…” He reached over, choosing the bold move of removing Crowley’s sunglasses right from his face. The redhead whipped his head over to him in an instant, golden eyes blown out. His lips parted and he watched as the angel began twirling his glasses around his hands, no longer looking back at him. They were folded up and added to the demon’s pile.

In doing so, the angel leaned over the demon with a hand resting on his thigh. Crowley was so quick to bring up how heated Aziraphale’s face had gotten when his own started doing the same. He brought a hand up to lightly touch his back and that’s when the angel melted, dropping where he hovered. His legs were dragged onto the bed as he now laid his head in the demon’s lap with his face as red as could be. He rubbed a cheek against the denim fabric there before glancing up at the redhead.

Crowley snorted and properly pushed his palm into his back, running it over where his wings would be in a more angelic form, “6000 years.” His palm repeated the action on the opposing side.

With a coo, Aziraphale concurred, “Six thousand years.” He ran his fingers over the stiff fabric now, “You truly wear such tight pants!” A short snicker, “I thought you said we should get comfortable.” He stuck his tongue out with an angelic glow outlining his face.

“Comfortable? I’ll show you comfort.” With the angel still resting over his lap, he undid his belt and pushed his jeans right off his body. It took a little wiggling and shifting but even when the angel tried to get up to make it easier, the demon pushed him right back down, “You’re fine, I got this.” Now, he was left in his boxers and a black tank top that clung to his lanky frame.

Aziraphale crawled over the demon and spun onto his back, flopping onto one of his pillows. His legs and part of his rear were left resting over Crowley when he did this.

Crowley hooked his fingers into the khaki slacks and started pulling them down. He gave this clothing the same treatment his own received once they were off -- he folded them neatly and plopped them onto his pile. His golden eyes came back to rest on the angel’s plump body, finding himself invested in the way he shifted his hips from left and right and pressed his knees together. His eyes drifted lower to see him stretching his feet and curling his toes. Even a hellbeast had to admit that was adorable.

His eyes came back up and his hands traveled with them. His lanky fingers undid the very last button on his shirt, raising an eyebrow as he went for the next one. He tilted his head this time, silently seeking approval, and the important detail was: Aziraphale didn’t stop him. He sat patiently until each button was undone before sliding the dress shirt right off his shoulders. The angel dropped it to the ground and Crowley was quick to snatch it back up and add it to his growing pile instead. 

“May I?”

“Are you asking me or trying to tempt me?”

“Oh, I’ve been trying to tempt you for about as long as we’ve known each other.”

“You’ve been successful more than I care to admit,” He brought a hand up and gestured the serpent to come closer, and it was immediately that the redhead was straddling his thigh as their faces pushed together.

Aziraphale pushed his body up with both hands gripping Crowley’s side. Their lips touched. This wasn’t the first time their lips touched and likely wouldn’t be the last time their lips touched either. Neither of them really remembered who kissed who first.

If one was to ask the demon, he would spin a tale about tempting him over the years of being told “angels and demons can’t kiss” and that he kissed first. The angel believed it was himself that finally couldn’t resist the demon’s temptation and stole a kiss in the night after one of their many dates. Neither of them would actually say this as the only people liable to ask would be another demon or angel. And no one could truly know about their relationship like that. So the “official story” was: They never kissed! They never embraced! They never did a single thing that they did!

And they definitely weren’t kissing now with the angel’s knee pressing firmly into the demon’s groin as two sets of hands found their way all over each other’s bodies. Not as far as anyone else knew. 

Aziraphale kept his hands gripping Crowley’s sides while Crowley’s hands were rooted on Aziraphale’s hips. He really was grinding his hips down against his leg while their lips were pressed so close. 

“I want your wings,” hissed the demon, “I want to preen you and hear your sweet music.”

The angel cooed with his eyes drifting shut, “In due time, in due time, my dear … just be here with me--” His kisses were soft and quick, peppered on and around the demon’s mouth. Every few kisses, a deeper one was shared. He knew his lover was losing his patience as the rocking against his thigh increased to a steady grind. An inhale of Crowley’s breath was stolen as it occurred to him how wet he was.

And this was their constant dance… for every few times that Crowley could restrain himself, there were times like this where he was desperate for the angel. He wanted his touch, he wanted his wings, he wanted whatever genitalia Aziraphale wore that day, and most of all, he wanted to do something they never had before.

Lust and sex were considered sins but rarely were demons even interested in the god awful acts of humans! One would think Crowley, the frequent fish out of water, would be all over it, especially with the recent decades they had lived through? The Roman and Greek orgies even? Alas, it was something he could only ever imagine doing with one person.

One angel.

It was dreadful to think about. 

Truly, he would never be caught admitting it. 

Ever.

Not even with the threat of holy water.

Nope.

Crowley exhaled as a barrage of kisses, slow and steady, came across his jawline and down his throat. His nose twitched when blonde curls poked it and a hiss that sounded like “please” managed to make its way from his mouth. Or throat. 

Aziraphale replied with his gentle tone, “Love, love, you’re working yourself up-- is this why you came in? Did you think you’d get luckier in my bed instead of the bentley?” In a way, his tone almost sounded… mocking.

But that’s when the guilt set in and Crowley rolled off of him, a dishevelled mess, “Oh, angel, I would never!” For once, it wasn’t sarcasm, “I didn’t just join you to-- to-- to get something from you, maybe I should depart, you see, this is why we--”

Aziraphale rolled onto his side. He tilted his head thoughtfully, “It’s okay, Crowley.” He broke apart all the stammering with three words, and the way the demon’s name rolled off his lips combined with those baby blues staring at him was enough to send the demon tumbling back to hell, “Come back, please?”

Who was Crowley to disobey? He crawled back, this time content to lay next to Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale pushed a kiss into his lips, pushing one arm beneath the slender man while the other gripped his hip. Together, their bodies touched and a smile crossed his face, “You know, you’ve been terribly patient … six thousand years so … and I know we’ve had our little spats about what’s right and wrong for the lot of us, but--” His hand pressed against his midsection and drew downwards, “Being with you rarely feels wrong, not deep inside, maybe on the surface, I know better, but in other places, I just…”

His words trailed off as his hand slipped into the boxers of his demonic companion, gracing over his cunt in a way that made Crowley shake. He pushed into a deep kiss and clung to him as the knee returned to his groin.

And this was what would become their “first time”. The whole concept of it was hogwash to both of them. All they knew was that they were utterly invested in one another in these moments where Aziraphale’s fingers made quick work of Crowley’s clit before diving inside of him instead.

Crowley was beginning to realize why the humans liked this so much with every thrust of Aziraphale’s fingers. It was experienced, gentle and firm in all the right ways. His touch had so much knowledge behind it, especially when accompanied by kisses and nips over each piece of bare skin. 

Soon, the arm beneath him came just to pull up his shirt. Aziraphale pressed his lips to one of his breasts next, making Crowley grateful that he went with those for the evening. Before long, something was happening that made Crowley question his allegiances, it made him question his entire life from the garden. 

The demon may have known quite well what an orgasm was and that there was a climax to most of these interactions, hell… it wasn’t like he never experimented on his own! But this was different, this was real…

As Aziraphale’s fingers never faltered and the kisses had raised to his lips again, he felt his legs twitching, flying out in front of him, impossible to control! He curled his feet with breaths that came too far apart or too close together.

Then, the words. Aziraphale’s voice.

“Cum for me, Crowley,” and that was all it took. The fingers curled and his cunt clamped around them as tears-- no, it couldn’t have possibly been tears-- oh, he was going to disappear after this for a long time! He was trembling to Aziraphale’s touch, whining out in the most pathetic way, and now tears were threatening to fall as the angel continued moving his fingers throughout this climax?

All the feelings were becoming … too much … and his squeaks were getting louder as he gripped at any part of Aziraphale that he could grab. He hated that this was happening while loving every single second of it.

Truly, the duality of their relationship.

It took a few minutes and finally mustering up the strength to push Aziraphale away from his cunt (as hesitant as he was to do so) before he was finally calming down, panting out and trembling while desperately wiping away tears.

And the other part of it that Crowley hated was how nonchalant the angel was. He grabbed a handkerchief from his nightstand and dragged his fingers clean of mostly clear liquid with a whitish tone. 

Then, Aziraphale had begun dimming the lights and shifting blankets to lay over them. It was like they were done, but they weren’t, were they? Crowley hadn’t even the opportunity to touch the angel.

But when he opened his mouth to complain and be as thick headed as ever, all Aziraphale had to say was, “In due time, my dear, why don’t we care for another first this evening? Lay with me? Let me wrap myself around you and feel your heat until the morning. We can sleep together, you look quite exhausted.”

Crowley exhaled but his body buckled. He nodded but it wasn’t Aziraphale who wrapped himself around the snake, no, no. The second the angel laid down, the snake was around him like this was his prey, all tangled up with his face hidden against his body. It took no time for Aziraphale to finally free his wings… only to wrap them around the demonic entity. 

A demon was never meant to feel this safe.


End file.
